


A Tale of Two Bad Mice

by ChrisCalledMeSweetie



Series: Children's Classics with a Johnlock Twist [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, illustrations by Beatrix Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 17:32:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13439757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrisCalledMeSweetie/pseuds/ChrisCalledMeSweetie
Summary: Sherlock and John make mischief.





	A Tale of Two Bad Mice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DaisyFairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaisyFairy/gifts).



> A retelling of Beatrix Potter's classic tale.

Once upon a time there was a very beautiful doll’s-house; it was red brick with white windows, and it had real muslin curtains and a front door and a chimney.

It belonged to a Doll called Mrs. Hudson. Jane was her housekeeper, but she never did any cooking, because the dinner had been bought ready-made, in a box full of shavings.

There were two red lobsters and a ham, a fish, a pudding, and some pears and oranges. They would not come off the plates, but they were extremely beautiful.

One morning Mrs. Hudson and Jane had gone out for a drive in the doll’s perambulator. There was no one in the nursery, and it was very quiet. 

Presently there was a little scuffling, scratching noise in a corner near the fireplace, where there was a hole under the skirting-board.  
  
Sherlock put out his head for a moment, and then popped it in again.  
  
Sherlock was a mouse.

A minute afterwards, John, his husband, put his head out, too. 

When they saw that there was no one in the nursery, they ventured out on the oilcloth under the coal-box. 

The doll’s-house stood at the other side of the fire-place.

Sherlock and John went cautiously across the hearthrug.

They pushed the front door—it was not locked.

Sherlock and John went upstairs and peeped into the dining-room.

Then they squeaked with joy!

Such a lovely dinner was laid out upon the table! There were tin spoons, and lead knives and forks, and two dolly-chairs—all so convenient.

Sherlock set to work at once to carve the ham. It was a beautiful shiny yellow, streaked with red.

The knife crumpled up and hurt him; he put his finger in his mouth.  
  
“It is not boiled enough; it is hard. You have a try, John.”

John stood up in his chair, and chopped at the ham with another lead knife.  
  
“It’s as hard as the hams at the cheesemonger’s,” said John.

The ham broke off the plate with a jerk, and rolled under the table.  
  
“Let it alone,” said Sherlock. “Let’s have some fish, John!”

John tried every tin spoon in turn; the fish was glued to the dish.

Then Sherlock lost his temper.

He put the ham in the middle of the floor, and hit it with the tongs and with the shovel—bang, bang, smash, smash!  
  
The ham flew all into pieces, for underneath the shiny paint it was made of nothing but plaster!

Then there was no end to the rage and disappointment of Sherlock and John.  
  
They broke up the pudding, the lobsters, the pears and the oranges.  
  
As the fish would not come off the plate, they put it into the red-hot crinkly paper fire in the kitchen; but it would not burn either.

Sherlock went up the kitchen chimney and looked out at the top—there was no soot.

While Sherlock was up the chimney, John had another disappointment.

He found some tiny canisters upon the dresser, labelled—Rice—Coffee—Currants—but when he turned them upside down, there was nothing inside except red and blue beads.

Then those mice set to work to do all the mischief they could—especially Sherlock!

He took Mrs. Hudson’s clothes out of the chest of drawers in her bedroom, and he threw them out of the top floor window.

But John had a frugal mind. After pulling half the feathers out of Mrs. Hudson’s bolster, he decided that he and Sherlock could use a feather bed.

With Sherlock’s assistance he carried the bolster downstairs, and across the hearth-rug.

It was difficult to squeeze the bolster into the mouse-hole; but they managed it somehow.

John went back and fetched a jumper for himself and a scarf for Sherlock.

He was just returning with a chair, when suddenly there was a noise of talking outside upon the landing.

The mice rushed back to their hole, and Mrs. Hudson and Jane came into the nursery.

What a sight met their eyes!

Mrs. Hudson sat upon the upset kitchen stove and stared—but she did not make any remark.

The little girl that the doll’s-house belonged to said, “I will get a doll dressed like a policeman!”

But the nanny said, “I will set a mouse-trap!”

Of course, Sherlock and John were too clever to ever be caught by a policeman, or a mouse trap.

So that is the story of the two Bad Mice.

But they were not so very very naughty after all, because Sherlock paid for everything he broke.

He found a crooked sixpence under the hearthrug; and upon Christmas Eve, he and John stuffed it into one of Mrs. Hudson’s stockings.

_The End_

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by @chained-to-the-mirror, who created a lovely illustration of Sherlock and John as mice. https://chained-to-the-mirror.tumblr.com/post/169961873896/its-not-the-great-mouse-detective-but-its-still
> 
> Kudos and comments make me smile almost as much as naughty little mice do. :D


End file.
